


Speak

by AvaCelt



Series: EXO Prompt Fills [9]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris can speak four languages, but he can never find the right words to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak

The first time Wu Fan tries to make his feelings known, he tries it in Cantonese in front of the mirror. 

He looks. He fixes his imaginary tie. He recites it. 

_Ngo. Oi. nei._

It sounds fabulous. He looks fabulous. After smirking haughtily, he dresses in his best suit and shoes, and heads off to the club where the bartender with the panda eyes works. 

He fails. He ends up spilling his drink on himself before he even begins, and the look of utter pity that the younger man gives him is enough to send him trudging home rather than attempting to clean himself up and give it another try.

A week later, he tries again. 

This time, he practices it in Mandarin and uses it on his best friend, the Korean analyst Min Seok. 

_Wo. Ai. Ni._

Of course Min Seok’s a little confused as to why it  _had_  to be in Mandarin, but he ensures Wu Fan it’s fine. It’s all fine. He just has to go do it now. 

That night, he dresses in dress pants, a slim fitting button-down, and loafers he’d picked up earlier. He goes to the same bar, to the same seat, with the same smile, and sits down. Zitao, the devilishly handsome bartender that was currently mixing two parts rum and one part coke, threw him a smirk. A knowing smirk, Wu Fan decides, because he remembers that night as well. It’s why he’s here. 

But when he begins, he gets past the  _wo_  and the _ai_ , but never gets to the  _ni_  because someone calls Zitao over and Zitao is too busy to pay attention to him. It hurts, but he’s not mad, because he knows Zitao will still be here tomorrow. 

His third try will be in Korean. Courtesy of Min Seok. 

_Saranghaeyo._

They practice it together on each other this time. Min Seok has to propose to his girlfriend. That pisses Wu Fan off because they graduated from the same college at the same time and got jobs in the same company and country, and damn it, they would be getting married in the same month because that’s what best friends did, do, and would continue to do in future generations.

So they practice it on each other, and one of the interns hears them, and it spreads like wildfire that Mr. Wu from Marketing and Mr. Kim from Analytics are finally getting married and that this is just wonderful. 

But they don’t really care. So Wu Fan dresses in his favorite jeans and his favorite shirt because that’s how real men did it. 

Wu Fan ends up at the club while Min Seok makes his way to his girlfriend’s apartment. They send each other encouraging texts while they’re on their way and bid goodbyes when they reach the doorstep of their destinations. It’s a fool-proof plan. It’ll work. 

Wu Fan sits at the same seat, in the same bar counter, in front of the same tender’s station. And when Zitao sees him, he smirks, and Wu Fan can’t help but smile back, and so he’ll try again.

"Saran-"

"-hey, babe!" 

Wu Fan turns to see a middle-aged woman throw Tao “the look," and at first Wu Fan is scared because she looks like a cat, but instantly calms when he sees the hilarity fleeting in Zitao’s eyes. So he chuckles and lets the woman release a spur of lewd comments, and Zitao’s chuckling and his eyes are filled with mirth, and that’s all that really matters to Wu Fan, even though he’s failed again. 

He’s going to do it in English, he decides. Min Seok, newly engaged and on his way to better prospects, claps and agrees with the sentiment. 

_I. Love. You._

It shouldn’t be too hard, they agree. And Zitao seems like a smart guy, they think, so he must know the most common phrase in the English language. 

Wu Fan goes in his work suit, because he just had a meeting and he’s tired and just wants to sleep, but Zitao matter more. That night still gave him shivers. That sweet smile and deft hands coupled with sweeter words and more passionate advances.

But he never gets past  _I._  The thought of having to watch the one you wanted to say it to kiss another man is something Wu Fan’s heart can’t take. So when he sees it, he numbs inside. He turns around and stumbles back into a cab and lets it take him home with his broken heart. 

He stops going to the club. Min Seok and his fiance still go, and weeks later, Min Seok tells him that Zitao asks about him. He tells him that’s too bad. Not in a mean way, of course. Just that it’s too bad he never told him earlier and lost him to another in his hesitation to just get it out of the way. 

Min Seok blinks. He tells him there’s no one. Wu Fan insists there’s someone because he saw them kissing. Min Seok’s eyes widen but he composes himself quickly. Wu Fan bids him farewell and goes home to his empty apartment and his empty bed and his heart is empty too and he falls asleep in his clothes and shoes.

The next day, it’s business as usual, and Wu Fan gets home by five-thirty, but there’s someone in front of his door. 

He’s in snug jeans, a beaten t-shirt and a dusty leather jacket. His hair is underneath a black cap and his arms are crossed and his legs are straight. When he sees Wu Fan, he uncrosses them, strides over to him and does something Wu Fan doesn’t expect.

It’s not a harsh kiss. It’s surprising, but tender, and Zitao wraps his arms around his waist and he can’t do anything but drop his briefcase and kiss back.

When they finish inside on his bed- Zitao spent and heaving on top of him, his head buried in the dip of of his back, his hands and flesh flush and needy against Wu Fan’s hips and thighs- Wu Fan thinks. Wu Fan just thinks. 

He doesn’t say anything for a while because it feels nice to have someone next to him again- on his own bed. The first and previous time they did this was back in Zitao’s apartment a flew blocks from the club, and it was nice then too, but Wu Fan didn’t think afterwards. He just flushed and they did it again and Wu Fan thought it was wonderful. 

But he doesn’t ask again this time. Instead, he goes to get up and put on his clothes. 

Only to have a hand close around his wrist and pull him back. He ends up on his back, the younger man hovering over him. And Wu Fan is a little sad it has to be this way. 

"Are you going to let me say my piece, or what?" 

Wu Fan blinks. He doesn’t think there’s much to be said. 

"He kissed me. You just happened to walk in on it, saw, and then walked out without seeing that I punched him and rendered him sterile for the week."

Wu Fan blinks. How did he know that?

"And I was listening to you, damn it. I knew you were about to finish in Mandarin, but got sidetracked, and I don’t even know Korean."

So he  _was_  listening. That’s nice to know, Wu Fan thinks. And Min Seok’s a little tattle tail. 

"And I didn’t even see you that other time, so can you just-" Zitao scrunches his eyes shut, and Wu Fan thinks that looks unpleasant on him. “Just give me another shot. Please?" It’s a plea. 

And sincere. Perhaps. 

But Wu Fan doesn’t want to go through mirrors, practicing with Min Seok, and debating his life and his choices anymore. He’s tired, and hungry, and his thighs and back hurt, and he just doesn’t want to anymore. 

"I love you," Zitao deadpans. His English is terrible. Chaotic, truthfully. But Wu Fan is shocked nonetheless. 

Zitao catches the flicker in his eyes and lowers himself onto him. He presses his naked skin against his own and brushes his lips up and down his neck before nuzzling his collarbone.

"Ngo oi nei." Wu Fan gasps as he whispers in his ear.

Hands travel the length of waist, chest, and torso. “Saranghaeyo." It comes out so terribly that Wu Fan unknowingly lets out a dry chuckle. It’s Min Seok’s teachings, no doubt. 

"Wo ai ni."

And they kiss again, Zitao’s soft tongue working its way into Wu Fan’s mouth. He beckons into his touch and lets his hand roam in his dark black hair. He lets go when he’s out of breath.

"I love you too."

It’s soft. Almost a whisper. He doesn’t think Zitao heard it, but when hands grip his waist, lift his hips. and take him back into the throes of ectasy, he knows he did. Wu Fan groans, feeling himself being filled over and over again. He grips Zitao’s arms on his side and arches his back when his spot inside is grazed gently, and then roughly, and then at thrusts levels where he can no longer control the sounds his body and mouth make. Lips capture his ear and Zitao’s whispering over and over again the very words he’s struggled to get out for so long, and when he climaxes, he arches his back so much and screams so loud that he knows for sure that he won’t be going to work tomorrow with a broken voice and a limp. 

When he drops back on the bed, Zitao’s lighter body drapes over him like a curtain and lulls him to sleep.

Weeks pass, and he’s back at the club. Min Seok freaks out constantly about his upcoming wedding. Wu Fan promises Zitao will handle the catering and the open bar regardless of all the other issues. Things go nicely. Things go well. 

When they, Wu Fan and Zitao, decide to move in together, Wu Fan thinks that he didn’t, in fact, need four languages to express something that could have easily been said with a smile and a surprise kiss. 

Zitao agrees.

And they fall into their heaven together.


End file.
